To Build a Home
by Senderella11
Summary: Sulphur, Louisiana is home. It's where Cara's friends are, where the church her uncle preaches at and she sings in the choir is, where, every week, she puts on her uniform and cheers for the football team, even though they don't win much. But when circumstance strikes, they don't have much choice but to relocate, to her uncle's hometown: Dillon, Texas. Tim Riggin's Dillon.


Cara Reeves stood at the edge of the kitchen counter, stirring sugar into her tea with a spoon, while the chatter and laughter going on just outside the back door faded into white noise. The earthy, bitter smell of the tea, like one of the first real days of fall, when the air is crisp and dry leaves create a kaleidoscope of colours on the grass, wafted up through the steam rising from the cup. That smell never failed to bring her thoughts round to her mother, who had always kept a pot brewing on the stove and a warm mug of chamomile, which Cara remembered tasting like flowers and honey, ready before bed. Despite the years that had passed since her parents had died, almost half her lifetime, she could still picture them clearly. There was her mother's perfume, and the shade of pink lipstick she always wore, her father's comforting but calloused hands, and the sound of his voice when they said their evening prayers. The memories felt close, even when she was three hundred miles away from where they'd taken place in Louisiana.

"Cara?" Uncle Bill stepped through the back door, looking around for the figure of his niece until he spotted her in the kitchen, with one hand wrapped around a mug and the other, clutching a teaspoon," What're you doing in here?"

"Just felt like some tea is all." She answered, flashing a smile in his direction to ward off the unsure look he wore.

It wasn't so much that she didn't want to be out back with the others, they were all nice and friendly, 'good people' as her uncle would put it. But, she was spending her senior year a lot further from home than she'd imagined she would, and it was sort of strange, watching him reconnect with people and a life that were completely new to her. They'd even welcomed him 'home' when they'd visited the church he'd be preaching at on Sunday. She was beginning to understand what he'd left when he came to Sulphur, Louisiana to take care of her. It was for that reason she felt kind of guilty for wishing she could go home and spend the rest of summer by the lake with the girls, watching as the guys competed over who could catch the largest fish or play 'water ball'. The last time Cara had even crossed over the state line was back when she still had a gap toothed smile and wore her hair in pigtails. Now here she was in a new where every face was a stranger's.

"You've got the look of someone with troubles on their mind."

"No, I was just thinking." She assured him, taking the tray of snacks that he was holding from his hands and moving it to the counter," Did you just come in here to check on me?"

"No- for ice. Is there anymore sitting in that freezer?"

"I don't think so. Didn't you say the other bag you took out was the last?"

"Did I?"

He mulled it over in his mind for a moment, wondering he really did say that earlier. Although he wasn't too excited to admit it, his memory was getting a little more muddled as the years went by and his bones got a little shakier. Just as his hair had grown more silver, so it resembled the colour of a quarter, and lines and marks had etched themselves into his face.

"You did. Why don't I run to the store and grab some? I think I saw a little one not too far away."

"And you're sure you can find you're way?"

"I am. It gives me a chance to drive the new truck anyways."

"You be careful with that truck now. You can get some more cola too, while you're at it."

She tried to look as disapproving as possible at the last request while grabbing the keys and heading out under the hot Texas sun, it's position high in the sky.

Along with Uncle Bill's age, sixty five as of the spring, came health concerns. First came the arthritis, especially bad in his hip, and then the stroke six months before they moved. Following his recovery, which by the grace of God was made in full other than a little bit of trouble he had walking, came a list of dietary restrictions to prevent his blood pressure from climbing high enough to put him at risk of another attack. Like money other Southern men his age though, the way to his heart really was through his stomach, so convincing him to drop all his unhealthy habits was a challenge, especially when it came to two things: fried chicken and ice cold cola.

Dillon, Texas didn't really look so different from Sulphur, Louisiana, despite the distance. The roads, bordered by fields and lines of trees, and sprinklings of houses were just like the ones back home. There was even an Alamo Freeze sitting on one street corner, packed with people on the mid-august day. They were all probably trying to soak up their last days of vacation before school started up again in a couple weeks. The most obvious difference was the large number of blue and yellow 'Panthers' signs plastered all over town, some of them boasting of a state championship win two years ago in 2006. The last time Sulphur High had won state was in 1965.

The five minute drive stretched into something more like fifteen, a few wrong turns taken having something to do with it. Being 'directionally challenged' ran in her family, or so Uncle Bill told her, he said that her mom could hardly find her way out of the driveway. Talking about his little brother and his wife after their death was difficult for the man, but he'd always recognized that it'd have been harder for his niece if he didn't. Someone owed that grieving little girl stories of her parents after she'd lost all that time with them in one night.

Cara did eventually pull up to the convenience store, where a few trucks were parked in a lot out front.

The store keeper was an older looking man, his hair the same colour as her uncles, though he was missing some of the frown lines. He wore a faded blue cap with the same Panthers logo on all the signs on his head and looked up from the crossword he was working on when the dinging of the bell that signaled the comings and goings of customers went off.

He could guess the young, blonde miss was new in Dillon, or at least- had never found her way into his store before, judging not only by the fact that he didn't recognize, but by the way she was slowly walking through the aisles, peering carefully at each section. Most people knew where they were going when the came in, more often than not for a case or two of beer.

Cara felt a bit of colour rushing to her cheeks when she faltered when attempting to pull a bag of ice from the chest, briefly looking over her shoulder to see anyone had noticed her fumble. She also took a case of cola, the label naming a price a little more expensive than she remembered it being at Maxwell's back home.

"Hi." She said, aiming a smile at the man behind the counter and hauling her things on top of it.

There was an old, white fan sitting next to the register, making obnoxious noises while it blew cold air around the store. Usually, that'd be welcome on a day at hot as that one, if it weren't for her bare arms, uncovered by the thin straps of the dress she wore, breaking out in goosebumps from the chill.

"How're you doing today, darlin'?"

"Good, thank you. How about you?"

"Just fine, miss. Hot enough out there for you?"

"Sure is."

The pleasant smile the man was wearing grew as his gaze shifted to someone beyond her shoulder, a figure coming up to the counter to place a two-four of beer down.

"Tim Riggins! You gearing up for football season?"

"Sure am, Clint."

"Atta boy. You're playing running back this year, hey?" He paused for a moment to turn back to Cara,"Comes to thirteen even, miss."

Cara searched through her bag with growing anxiousness, inwardly praying that she'd just looked over her wallet. The keys to the truck, receipts, a few nickels and dimes, and a couple gum wrappers passed by her fingertips with no sight of the one thing she needed.

"I'm so sorry." She said, her face heating up as she kicked herself for being so dumb. Already, Cara was mentally preparing for the scolding she was sure to get when she came back empty handed all because she hadn't thought to check her purse before leaving the house over fifteen minutes ago,"I must've forgotten my wallet- I'm real sorry, I'll have to come back later."

"Here- I've got it."

She stopped her flustered repacking of the things that had spilled out of her bag during the search to look over at the guy the voice had come from. He was pulling out a couple extra bills from his jeans, casually dropping them onto the register in front of her ice and case of soda.

"Oh- thank you. Are you sure?"

Tim Riggins was looking back at her through green eyes, framed by fallen pieces of disheveled brown hair that grew down past his chin. One side of his mouth was quirked up slightly, making something of a smile. He was good looking and looked every bit the part of the star football player she'd gathered he likely was. But, he seemed sort of different from the boys she'd grown up with; they'd all been clean cut and tidy and went to church Sunday morning in pressed khakis and polo shirts. He looked like he didn't care nearly that much.

"No worries."

"Well, thank you then." Cara moved her eyes away from him and to the things in front of her. She took both of them in her arms, carefully, so she wouldn't drop anything and embarrass herself anymore. "Thank you again." She called out from the doorway, the bell clanging again as she left.

The drive home wasn't nearly as long as the way there, once she knew which roads to take and which to avoid. Still, she was gone long enough that Uncle Bill jumped up- as much as someone his age and his condition could- when he saw her coming through the front door.

"You were beginning to worry me, Caroline." His voice was level and fairly calm, though the underlying frustration behind it was clear. Especially since he had used her full name, which only came out instead of 'Cara' every once in awhile.

"I'm sorry, I just took a couple wrong turns on the way there. I have your ice though." She stretched out the bag like a peace offering,"And your cola."

"You're supposed to call when you get delayed like that. You do that next time, you understand?"

"I will."

Though he maintained a serious expression, as he usually did, Cara could tell his reserve was melting. Something that might've taken a little longer had the football player at the store- Tim Riggins- not saved her like he did. It was only a couple bills, but she thought was nice of him anyways.


End file.
